Power of the Sword.

Atop a castle spire, a flagpole stood, with a bright yellow flag coming from it, frantically whipping and slapping the air in the high winds above it. Below the castle, a moat with a drawbridge surrounded the boundary of its walls. Beyond the moat, a path leads to the drawbridge, or away from it, depending on if you’re coming or going.

A knight on a white horse dressed in shining white armor, and a lance in his hand, stood ready for battle on a path below the castle that led to the road of the drawbridge. His helmet was there to protect his head from the darts and arrows of the enemy. The darts and arrows of lies and deceptions. His breastplate covered his heart. The heart needed protection from the fiery darts as well. If lies and deceptions could enter the mind and move down to the heart, they could penetrate and cause doubts and unbelief to fester and grow.

The lance in his hand was his only weapon. His skills as a knight were such that all he had to do was use one glancing blow to knock the enemy off balance. He had learned from experience that the enemy was a coward. He was merely a bully using words to threaten and frighten those who were weak and did not know the power and authority they had in being royal citizens of the King. The power that was generated inside of the knight was love that glowed like a bright light. Anything that the light touched instantly dissolved anger and hatred. It could cut through the darkness like a knife. It was his greatest weapon.

If there was anything that the knight could hate, it was the enemy of the King. He hated how he made victims out of the King’s people. Even at that moment, he could see the minion hordes of the enemy laying siege on them. The minions had short, stout bodies that had no neck holding up their hideous-looking heads. Their teeth were glaring white fangs. Their expressions wore only anger and hatred, and their eyes looked haunted and tortured with pain as if someone or something was driving and tormenting them to commit their horrendous deeds.

Nets and stones were being hurled by these hideous beasts at the King’s people. The hordes and minions didn’t have to work hard to capture these people. The King’s people were dressed in peasant clothes and were not armed with any weapons. They made no effort to fight back when the minions attacked them. A thick, dark cloud hung over them and created confusion in their minds. Many of them surrendered in fear, crying out in pain that they had been captured. Which only brought a sick joy to the hordes, who managed a twisted laugh each time one of the King’s people froze in fear and cried.

One minion was picking on a man by whispering to him, “You will never make it. You are a failure. You are a weak reject that no one loves.” The words sunk into the man’s mind and penetrated his heart, for he had no armor to protect him. The man crumbled to the ground and cried, weeping and sobbing that he was alone and no one loved him. His mind raced for a cure and settled on a pint of whisky. He knew with that he would drift off into a cloud and forget all of his pain, at least for a little while. The pain always came back.

Another minion was hoisting a net over a group of people saying, “You are helpless in your addiction. You will never get free.” Then he threw the net over the top of them and caught them all, and watched them struggle and helplessly try to get out of the net. “We’ve been caught!” they would scream. “The hordes have captured us!” This made the horrible minion laugh an appalling hoarse laugh. He knew this catch would garner him a higher position in the dark kingdom.

One by one, the hordes pulled them into their nets, as filled the air with the sound of their victorious gurgling and whooping that mimicked frenzied apes. The white knight sat on his horse and helplessly watched the King’s people under that cloud of darkness. He sat with his horse, glowing in the light inside of him, when a sense of boldness came over him. Like a warrior who had been sleeping, who came awake. On the outside, he looked strong and fierce, but on the inside, he was overflowing with kindness and love. The light inside of him gave him a sense of invincibility. He gripped his lance in his hand and raised it for battle.

He was poised to go to war with these minion hordes when the commander of the dark army, dressed in black armor, appears on a black horse in front of him. The dark commander stopped with his horse at the borderline on the path between the dark and the light. His black horse standing nose to nose with the white horse. The dark commander sat silently on his horse and stared at the white knight. He was using every ounce of intimidation that he had in him. His experience, just like the hordes, was that his presence alone would be enough to make his opponent crumble.

The white knight sat on his steed with his lance still poised in the air and lowered it because he knew that showing fear would only give the darkness power. He sat motionless and stared back at the dark commander. The two horses snorted at one another, and then the white horse took a step toward the dark horse. As he stepped, the light coming from the knight pushed the darkness back. The dark horse took a step back. The white horse took two more steps, then three, and the dark horse backed up with each step, and more light pushed the boundary of the darkness further back. Then the dark commander unexpectedly jerked the reins back on his horse, causing him to rear his front legs up into the air. He and his rider fled and vanished into the darkness.

Then the King appeared beside the white knight and patted his horse with a gentle stroke. The knight looked down at the King. When the King came to him after a battle, he was always so pleased. He enjoyed talking with him and learning from his encounters with the dark spirits. This time, he wondered what specifically made the dark commander run. He knew it was the light of the King, but why did it work?

So, the knight looked down at the King and asked, “What made him run”?

“He was scared”. the King answered.

The knight thought about this for a moment. His experience with these dark beings was that they never showed fear. The dark commander wore a black face covering, so he could not see his expression, just a quick and unexpected retreat. Since the knight couldn’t see what had made the Commander run, he asked the King,

“Of What?”

“Of me.” He answered. Then the King said, “The darkness is afraid of the light. The darkness is afraid of my power. Just the mention of my name is enough to send him screaming back to the pit where he came from. Just the sight of my glory, or the truth of my words, makes them tremble with fear.”

At this, the knight understood, and he knew what he could do to help the King’s people. He ordered that swords should be sent to each and every one of them. And, he sent a message to them, telling them how to stand firm in the truth of the King’s word, and to hold up their swords to the hordes and declare the truth against their lies. He told them to speak to the hordes and say, “By the authority of the King! No weapon formed against me shall prosper!”

So, the King’s people raised their newly got swords, and meekly spoke to the hordes, saying, “No weapon formed against me shall prosper.” Others said, “By authority of the King! Go.”

Slowly, the hordes backed down, not sure if they believed the people meant what they said. When the people saw the hordes stop and back away, they became emboldened. One man shouted, ‘You have no authority here! Go!” A flash of white light struck the minion, and he crashed to the ground. The dark lies and deception that held the man is bondage for years fled from him. Some of the stronger people took their swords and cut the others loose from the nets and bandaged their wounds. Peace and light were settling on the people, and a strength that they never knew they had.

When the others saw what was happening, they all shouted more boldly, swords gleaming in the light. “No weapon formed against me shall prosper!” and, “Go! In the name of the King!”

Back and back and back, the people pushed the hordes until they lost the hideous beasts in the darkness. The darkness, being so prevalent before, was a stark contrast to the people now because the light had driven the darkness away. It was so easy for them to see who they were now because they were in the light. From that day forward, the people grew in their confidence to fight the hordes. They took off their peasant clothes and put on the royal garments that the King made for them and from that day on; the people knew the power of the sword of truth. They knew NOTHING could defeat it, and they were no longer helpless at the hands of the darkness.

Marjorie Whitley is a prophetic musician and photographer. She sees visions from heaven, and brings words of encouragement, hope, and the healing of God through her music, art, and the written word.